


And All There Ever Was

by Lazarus76



Category: Inception (2010), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, dream within a dream, extraction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-21 04:43:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2455133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazarus76/pseuds/Lazarus76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Going into the mind of a Prisoner of War can have dangerous consequences. But will it get to the bottom of what happened to them? Fusion of Inception and CA:TWS. Characters from both used.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another import of mine from FF net, which I started writing in September and then realised it did have some mileage. Thank you for reading, if you do - I do appreciate that cross overs are not to everyone's taste.

"Well, this is something else."

Arthur glanced at Cobb, creasing his brow. "You're easily impressed."

"I mean, compared to where we usually meet our clients..." the Extractor's voice trailed off. "This really is a beautiful building."

The Point Man conceded. "Its very...high tech."

Cobb smiled. "And rich." He pushed himself up from the luxurious leather sofa that stretched across the wall. The main reception was a hive of activity - a buzz of cellphones, noise, and, Arthur perceived, money.

"Gentlemen?"

Arthur looked up. Standing in front of them was an attractive, tall brunette, her crisply professional manner matched by her tailored suit. "Would you like to come this way?"

Both men got up, straightening their clothes. As they followed her, Arthur looked round. The owner of this building was clearly a man with time and money to spend. Walking down a carpeted corridor, they found themselves in a large room.

Cobb turned to look at their guide. "I'm sorry, Ms...?"

"Hill!" she exclaimed, and laughed, almost nervously. "I do apologise. Would you like some coffee?"

"Please. White, thank you."

Arthur blinked. "Same. Many thanks."

Ms Hill nodded, her smiled charming. "Please have another seat." She shook her head. "I'll try and find him. I apologise that you've had to wait."

"Not a problem," Cobb mumbled to her retreating back. He looked round at the elegant, modern room. Light pastel colours. Expensive furniture. He got up, and ran his hand over the arm of one of the chairs. Suddenly, the door burst open, and a man entered. Cobb straightened up, Arthur got to his feet.

The man who entered was well into his forties, but had a slightly dishevelled, almost weary air. His greying hair framed an intelligent face, accentuated by wire rimmed glasses. His smile was tainted by relief when he saw Cobb and Arthur. "Mr Cobb, Mr Ogilvie. Thank you for coming. Please, let's sit."

Cobb out stretched his hand. "Dom. Thank you, Mr...?"

"Bruce," he interrupted. "Please, let's not stand on formality because what I have to ask of the two of you will probably sound completely crazy." He sat, running his hands through his hair. "But, I need you both - if not to believe me - then to certainly cut me a little credulity with this."

Arthur, who had also sat down, shot a look at Cobb.

"A few weeks ago, a man was discovered. A fugitive." Bruce looked at Arthur, and seemingly reassured by his facial expression, leaned back in his chair. "He was disorientated, dehydrated, malnourished."

"Yes?" Cobb asked, carefully.

"We think he's -" he looked at them - "have you ever heard of an assassin called the Winter Soldier?"

"No." Arthur spoke, calmly. "Who is he?"

"He is- was- a truly lethal individual." Bruce looked up. "A machine, really. Created to kill."

"Sounds like a fantasy." Arthur raised an eyebrow. "A kids' comic book."

"Well, its real." Bruce didn't speak tersely, but there was a slight edge to his voice that caught the Extractor's interest. "He's real. He's currently in the medical facility here."

Arthur shook his head. "I'm finding this hard, to believe, I'm sorry."

"Well, I-"

Suddenly, the door opened, and Ms Hill walked in carrying a tray. Bruce smiled as she placed it on the table. "Thanks, Maria." She nodded, and left. Cobb looked down into his hands.

"What do you want us to do?"

"We need you to find out what happened to him."

"We?"

"Yes. You see, I'm representing a larger group of people."

Arthur shook his head. "This is nuts. Cobb, let's go."

"Wait." The Extractor's tone was commanding, and Arthur paused. "Please."

"I know you guys operate off the grid." Bruce looked tired. "And, trust me, what you do - dream extraction - is something else." He shook his head. "But when I heard about you through underground sources, you could be the answer to our prayers. Please."

"What do you want us to do?"

"I want you to go into the mind of a man who was born over 90 years ago. Whose name - real name - is James Buchanan Barnes." Bruce looked at them. "He was captured when MIA, tortured, and turned into something else. Something devoid of humanity. You, with your skill sets, could help us find him."

Suddenly, the door opened again, and a tall, blonde man entered. Arthur looked at him. Bruce got up.

"Steve," he said calmly, "please meet the extractors."

Arthur and Cobb shook hands. The blonde's eyes were intense, but, Arthur noticed, there was a sadness in them, which, to his surprise, reminded him of Cobb's. Suddenly he realised what it was. The pain of losing someone you were close to. "What's your involvement in this?" Arthur asked, his quick mind immediately looking to draw links.

Steve swallowed. "He's my best friend. Was my best friend. Now, I don't know who he is, or who he thinks he is."

Suddenly, Arthur heard his own voice, surprising himself. Maybe it was the pain in the man's eyes, which reminded Arthur of the desolation Cobb had felt when separated from his children, on the run. 

"We'll help bring him back. Let's see him."


	2. Truth is Stranger than Fiction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you need a little more convincing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As this is already bobbing along on FF net, its a case of just downloading...

"This way!"

Arthur blinked as he and Cobb were led down a corridor, confronted by another door. Bruce, his manner increasingly agitated, pushed it open. As it slid open smoothly, soundlessly, The Point Man took a step inside.

As he focused, he noticed that there was a man in the room, who seemed completely uninterested in the fact that other people had entered. Dressed in black jeans and a soft grey t-shirt, he was sitting on a hospital bed, which, Arthur noticed with a slight shock, had open restraints hanging loose from it. He looked passive, his face directed at the wall.

"Bucky?"

Steve spoke, gently, hesitantly. Arthur watched as he approached he seated man, and reached out to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You OK?"

No response. Arthur swallowed, and looked at Bruce. He moved forward, and also spoke.

"Hey," he said, gently. "Its nearly 1pm. You hungry?"

Bucky turned, and looked at him. Arthur blinked - the man's eyes were cold, almost dead. There was no sign that there was any warmth, kindness, or anything that had been human behind that visage. Arthur looked at Cobb, whose expression was inscrutable.

"Hungry?"

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Bucky nodded. Bruce took a step back, visibly sighing with relief.

"Excellent. I'll deal with that." He turned, and pulled out a small electronic device, punching in numbers. He pocketed it, and looked at Cobb and Arthur. "For the last 70 years, he was tube fed." Bruce bit his lip. "He didn't even remember what solid food was when we found him."

Steve was standing in front of the seated man, talking to him quietly. There was no interaction, but Arthur noticed a little spark of recognition, as though the wounded man was trying to communicate, but couldn't remember how.

"I think we need to talk some more," Cobb said, decisively. "Or-"

"Or maybe you could read this," Bruce interrupted. He picked up a cardboard file that had been lying on a small table, bound with thread. "Please."

Arthur took it, fingering the crumpled, dirty paper. "Thank you."

"Pleasure."

The two men turned to leave. As they exited, they looked over again at Bucky. Feeling uneasy, Arthur pulled ahead of Cobb.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Well, this is-"

"Incredible?"

"Yes."

"Ridiculous?"

"Cobb!"

"Arthur, I'm sorry, but there is something about this-" Arthur put his glass on the table. The mini bar in the hotel had been a welcome relief after the day they'd had, and the Point Man had found that sipping it had soothed his nerves. "This just can't be true. A man - a World War II Sergeant - goes missing in action, assumed dead, only to arrive 70 years later as a trained assassin?!"

Arthur looked at him. "OK. Maybe they're all very convincing actors who deserve a spell of confinement. But this-" he shook his head. "There's something about this. This is a man who appears broken. Maybe we could help fix it."

Cobb looked at him, slightly amazed. "I can't believe you're actually-"

"I know I disagreed with you over the Fischer job," Arthur cut in, "but that was for your own self-interest. But this is an opportunity to actually help someone find their way back. You did. Remember?" Arthur finished his scotch, his resolve strengthening. "We're doing it. Call Ariadne and Eames."

"Arthur!" The Extractor looked almost outraged. "Is this your revenge?"

"For what?"

"For Fischer?"

"No," the Point Man replied. "Its your chance to use extraction to do something decent."

Shocked, Cobb watched as the Point Man turned to leave. As he did so, he looked at Cobb. "Call him. We're doing it."


	3. Deep Within

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur starts to dig. And possibly gains allies.

Arthur adjusted his grip on the PASIV. As he stood in the expensively modern foyer, he knew that he was attracting very little attention. The people milling around the spacious area seemed accustomed to not noticing others.

"Mr Ogilvie?"

He blinked. Maria Hill was walking towards him. "Arthur please," he corrected, smiling.

She returned it, with warmth. "Glad you came. There is someone else we want you to meet, who might be able to assist you on this." Hill spoke as she walked, her movements as smoothly flowing as her vowels. Arthur walked with her, carefully scrutinising the surroundings.

As they approached the door that led to the medical facility, she stopped, and punched in a pass code. As the door slid open with its customary hiss, he noticed there was a woman in the room. Petite, with a toned physique, her short russet hair brushed her shoulders. She was speaking to Bucky, softly. As they approached, the Point Man realised that her words were not in language. Frowning, he tried to place it, realising that she was speaking in Russian.

"Any reason?" he asked, quietly. Maria looked at him. "Sergeant Barnes was trained in Russia. Natasha speaks several languages, one of them Russian. We wondered if he would respond to her in this language."

"Does he respond at all?"

"Basic motor functions," Maria whispered. "But his communication is very slow, and he -"

She looked up. Natasha had stopped speaking, and was looking at them. Maria nodded. "Natasha, this is-"

"Arthur," he said, offering his hand. She took it, her grip firm. "Hi." She looked at the PASIV, her movement quick and barely perceptible. "So, you're here to help?"

"I am." He looked at Barnes, who was sitting, inert on the bed. He frowned. "Is he-"

Natasha looked at Maria, who nodded, and began to leave. As she did, the red head gestured to two comfortable chairs, seated a little away from the patient. "Have a seat."

Arthur sat. Natasha looked at him, biting her lip. He watched her closely. "Who is he?"

"Well, he is a highly trained assassin." She looked at her hands. "Seen the paperwork?"

"Yes." Arthur nodded. "Pretty impressive." He shook his head. "And hard to believe."

"That he looks so good for 96?"

Arthur quirked an eyebrow. "Well, yes. Do give me the number of his personal trainer." He looked at her, seriously. "Listen. I'm here without the knowledge of the rest of the team. I want to see what we're dealing with."

Natasha looked at him. "What are you going to do."

Arthur flipped up the clasps of the case. "This is a PASIV. It will enable me to enter his dream state. Enable me to find out what he's hiding. I'll get to know his mind better than anyone."

"But that's the thing," she said, quietly. "Bruce Banner told me what you were here for. I'm not sure that he has a mind to go into." She looked over at the motionless figure. "His mind was wiped every time he finished a mission. They used electro shock therapy, possibly destroyed his mind. Or at least, and sense he had of himself. He has no tastes, no opinions, no views on anything."

"A mindless puppet," Arthur commented.

"A killer mindless puppet." She looked at him. "I was on a mission once, getting an engineer out of Iran. He shot the engineer through me. Soviet slug."

"So he can't think for himself?"

"More that he's become used not to." She got up. "Watch."

She moved over to Barnes, and put her hand on his knee. No response. She then spoke, softly, in Russian.

His head turned, and to Arthur's astonishment, he spoke.

"The man in the suit...who is he?"

Natasha swallowed. "He's...here to help."

"One of them."

Arthur shuddered. "OK." He got up, holding the PASIV. Natasha watched. "What are you doing...?"

"May as well find out what's in there." He opened the case, and pulled out two IVs. "Hey," he spoke softly. "Just going to put this in your arm."

Barnes made no move. Arthur carefully attached his IV, and the attended to his own. He sat down, carefully, on the chair.

Suddenly, Arthur felt a tug. Barnes had grabbed the IVs, pulling them, twisting them. Arthur moved quickly. and slammed his fist on the centre button of the PASIV.

"Sweet dreams," he commented, sending them both into a bottomless pit.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
Arthur blinked, and looked round, trying to orientate himself. In the gloomy light, his vision was limited. Frowning, he took a couple of steps forward. Suddenly, he heard a voice - a clear, bellicose voice, with a distinct accent.

"So, the subject is ready." Arthur realised he was standing in an alcove, of a room that increasingly looked like a clinic. Tall shelving stacks filled with tubes of liquid were set to the left, and he noticed an examining table was in the middle. A man, he realised, was strapped down to it, the restraints across his chest, upper thighs, and ankles. The owner of the voice was a short, sour faced man, his facial expression not helped by his bulky wire glasses. He was leaning over the strapped man.

"Very healthy...clearly properly nourished...good muscle tone..."

Another man, taller, thinner, and with a pinched expression, scribbled notes on a clipboard.

"Well done." The short man was nodding. "Out of everyone captured, Sergeant Barnes is clearly the best choice. A good specimen."

Specimen? Arthur stood, frozen. This was not what he expected. Suddenly, he noticed the dated style of the equipment, and of the men's clothes. Memories. I'm in Barnes' memories.

"Is the serum ready?"

"Yes, Dr. Zola."

"Excellent. Soon Sergeant Barnes will be the man that others aspire to. Stronger, fitter, and more dangerous than anyone else. When his body has absorbed this, we can get him ready for the next stage."

Arthur crouched down, letting the shadows conceal him.

"How will his body cope with ageing?"

"We'll keep him on ice."

Arthur felt repulsed. What had they done to this man? Zola spoke again. "Syringe, thank you."

Arthur was struggling to contain himself. Suddenly, he heard a commotion. Zola blinked. "What-" The other man, his expression now worried, put the clipboard aside. "I-" he muttered, and began to leave the room. Zola, his expression furious, slammed the syringe back into the

The ground, he realised, was starting to shake. Bucky was twisting on the bed, trying to break from the restraints. "No!" Arthur shouted, forgetting the need for secrecy. "Stay calm!"

He hurried over to the other man. "Its a dream," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "You're going to wake up - you're"

Suddenly, he felt himself jolted awake. He turned, and his eyes widened. Bucky was ripping the IV out of his arm, and pushing himself off the bed. "Hey, its ok!" Natasha shouted, moving towards him. In response, he turned, using the flat off his flesh hand to knock her to the floor. Then, he began to run.

Arthur didn't hesitate. The IV out, he began to follow the other man out of the doors, and down the pristine corridor. Suddenly, Bucky stopped, and Arthur heard a new voice.

"Hey, super soldier, where you going so fast?"

The voice was gentle, almost paternal. Arthur blinked, panting, as he came to a halt. Barnes was trying to push past, twisting his torso, but the other man grabbed his arms. "Hey come on. Calm down. My decor is not that scary."

Arthur watched as Bucky's breathing became more regulated. Suddenly, he heard a shout. "What's going on?!"

The Point Man's view was blocked by the appearance of Steve's broad frame. He took one look at the struggling Barnes, then turned to Arthur, his blue eyes flashing fire. "What did you do?!"

Arthur met Steve's gaze. "I went into a dream."

"You what?!" Steve's face was growing progressively redder. "How could you-"

"Look!" Arthur's voice was too loud, and it made him wince. "I-"

"Excuse me, gentlemen," the other man interrupted. "But I don't think this is an appropriate conversation to have in front of our friend here."

Steve blinked, remembering himself. "You're right Stark," he muttered.

"Although it pains you to admit it, Rogers,"the other man shot back. "I'll take him back to his room, see if Banner's available. You gentlemen can use the adjoining office."

Steve went through. Arthur followed him, trying to keep himself composed. As he entered, the other man flew at him, pushing him roughly back against the wall.

The Point Man froze, his body immediately on alert. "Let go of me."

"Who are you?" Rogers demanded. Any pretence of friendliness had dissipated, his face a mask of confusion and worry. "Just - what did you do to him?!"

"Please," Arthur said, his tone calm, and also kind, "let me go. I read the file. Its horrific. To think of that happening to anyone - if its true."

Steve relaxed slightly, his grip on Arthur's upper arms loosening. "You did read it?"

"I did." Steve finally let go, sinking, wearily, onto a chair. "And- I need to ask you a few questions."

"Let me ask you something first, Mr Ogilvie-"

"Arthur."

"Arthur," Steve corrected himself. "What - how-"

"I brought with me the equipment we use to enter dream states, the PASIV." Arthur sat opposite. "In it, I can go through four layers of consciousness, to try and find someone's secrets. Usually, they keep them locked away, in the form of a safe, or something similar." He swallowed. "What I did was enter Bucky's first layer of dream state."

"What did you see?" Steve's voice was slightly hoarse, and Arthur realised the emotional impact of the situation was affecting the other man.

"I saw him, strapped to a table, in a medical facility." Arthur didn't break his gaze. "A man called Zola was about to pump him full of something."

Steve's jaw dropped. "I - " his voice faltered slightly. "I arrived - stopped them in time."

"I see."

"You really don't believe this, do you?" Steve's voice had a harsh edge. "He and I are both nearly a hundred years old. I crashed a plane and froze for seventy years - they kept defrosting him, and bringing him out-"

"To kill." Arthur's voice was soft. "Is he even a man anymore? Does he feel kindness, compassion, love? Or even hate, envy, greed? Normal human emotions?"

Steve shook his head. "No," he said, his voice almost breaking. "Please, understand why this is so important to me, Arthur. He was trying to kill me and Natasha. We were fighting in the street - his face was covered with a mask. I pulled it off when I flipped him over. I said, 'Bucky'?"

"And his reaction?"

Steve paused, as though trying to calm his thoughts. "He looked at me, stated walking towards me, and then said, 'who the hell is Bucky'?"

Arthur shook his head. "He still might be there."

"But - from what you said - all that's in his mind is what they did." Steve's face was ashen. "His memories, his psyche - just stopped." He shook his head. "Everything else - his childhood, joining the army, friendships, relationships - gone."

"Not necessarily." Arthur paused, his mind beginning to work quickly. "We're going to have to go deep - possibly three layers. And you'll need to help me, give me information on his -"

Suddenly, his cell phone rang. Cursing, he pulled it out of his pocket. "Excuse me."

"Arthur?"

"Cobb?" Arthur sat up. "Glad you called. I-"

"Arthur. We can't do it."

"What?"

"Arthur - Eames is currently stuck in Mombasa. Gambling problem. Think its a little too dangerous for him to leave. And Ariadne - she'll design the maps, but she doesn't want to go in."

Arthur ground his teeth. "Any particular reason?"

"Its too risky. I think the guy might be better off in a facility to help-"

"OK Cobb," Arthur said, frostily. "I get the message. I didn't want to do the Fischer job, you don't want Barnes. I accept that. I can handle it."

"Arthur!"

"Cobb." Arthur's voice was slightly sharp. "I can do this on my own."

He heard the click as the connection died. He turned to Steve. "Reckon you and and Natasha can handle this?"

"What?"

"If you want me to go in, to find the core of him," Arthur said, tightly, "that core that is locked away - that they forced to lock away- then I'm going to need people who knew him. You." He swallowed. "I'll go into Barnes' subconscious. That means going down three or four dream layers to find the person he was. If we can make him connect with that, he can stand a chance of remembering who he is, not what he now is."

"OK."

"Let's go and see him."

They left the room. As they re-entered the medical room, Arthur spotted that Bucky was stretched out in bed, apparently sleeping peacefully. The other man was in the room. "Sedative," he explained. "He's a little jumpy with needles though, had to get him to drink it."

Arthur remembered the gleaming syringe in the dreamscape and shuddered. "Not surprising," he muttered. He moved over, and looked at the other man. "I saw some interesting things."

"Oh, you're the dream interpreter?"

"Actually no." Arthur looked at him, his expression fixed. "I go into dreams, and I find out people's secrets."

The other man blinked. "No disrespect, but its probably better for my relationship that you don't go in mine."

"I think I'm going to be pretty busy," Arthur murmured.

"Anything I can do to help?"

"Do you know Bucky?"

"No. But I do know Steve - and Natasha." The other man extended his hand. "Tony Stark."

Arthur took it. "Arthur Ogilvie. I take it you own this building, Mr Stark?"

"I do. And its Tony."

"You're the genius inventor?" Arthur smiled. "Want to take a look at the PASIV?"

Stark's eyes lit up. "Thought you'd never ask, Art!"

"Well," Arthur said thoughtfully, "you might be the missing member of my team. Shall we discuss it?"


	4. Reality Collides

"This is beautiful, Art!"

Arthur smiled as Stark cooed over the PASIV. The inventor had wasted no time in asking how it worked, what its purpose was, and how it had been tested. Arthur had explained, and now felt that he was gaining an ally. Steve, he recognised, was still slightly hostile.

"So you're planning that we all plug into this?"

"Yes." Arthur sat down, opposite the other man. "My idea is that we have to take Bucky deep. The more layers we go through the more we'll unlock what is there. He'll start to remember, start to realise who he is - not what he was turned into." Arthur paused and took a sip of water from the glass that had been brought in for him. "My idea is that we have to go three layers down. One layer with you, one with Steve, and one with..."

"Natasha?"

Arthur nodded. "There's a history there."

Tony blinked. "What makes you think that?"

Arthur shrugged. "You get used to reading people."

Suddenly, he heard another voice. "Thanks for calling me. He's here?" Arthur looked up as another man - a good looking African-American - entered. Dressed casually in jeans and a light khaki t-shirt, he appeared to be full of coiled energy. "Arthur?"

The Point Man stood up. "Here."

Smiling, the newest addition to the room approached him, extending his hand. "Hey, man. Sam Wilson. Can we speak privately?"

Arthur nodded. "Of course." He turned to look at Stark. "Don't break it."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Be back here in ten minutes, Ogilvie, and I'll have improved it."

Smiling, Arthur turned and left the room, following Sam.

"So, you're really going ahead with this?"

Arthur nodded."What has Steve told you?"

Wilson smiled. "That you and a few others are planning on going into The Winter Soldier's head, to try and find out how he feels."

"Not entirely," Arthur corrected. "Its going into his dreams. His dreamscape will help throw up the key to all this." Arthur looked at the other man. "We'll be working with a series of mazes. We'll have to see if each maze leads us to what Bucky thinks, and remembers."

"You do know he's dangerous, right?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "I know he's a lethal, highly trained assassin who for 70 years managed the most covert operations-"

Sam cut him off. "Let me level with you. I was in the army. Fought in combat. I've been to Iraq, Afghanistan. But I never feared for my life or others the way I did that day. They we were - Steve, Nat, I - driving down a public highway, when he lands on top of us. Smashes his fist through the window, pulls out this agent we were kidnapping. Throws him out the window. Seriously. A 160 pound man, he picks him up and throws him as though he were made of paper. Then, after I brake, he comes off the roof. Jumps back onto the roof, and and pulls the steering wheel out through the windscreen." He swallowed, as Arthur looked at him questioningly. Sam shrugged. "You don't believe me."

"I do, but-"

"Its not a problem." Sam opened the door, and poked his head out. "Tasha!"

Romanov hurried into the room. "Hey Wilson. What's up?"

"I'm trying to explain to our friend here how Bucky nearly killed all three of us on the highway without stopping for a break." Sam looked at her. "I've got to the part where he ripped out the wheel."

"Yep," Natasha said, nodding. "And then when he realised that wasn't going to work, he picked up an AR 14. Shot at us, threw me against a car, and managed to shoot me in the shoulder." She swallowed. "I actually thought he was going to kill me. He's relentless."

Arthur nodded. "Thank you. Because you two have warned me of the projections we might be facing." He looked towards the door. "Is he awake?"

"Yes. He's with Banner. Doing some tests." Natasha looked at Arthur, her light blue eyes warm. "Want me to come with you?"

"Please," Arthur said. The two left the room.

Bucky was sitting on the bed, dressed in a light grey t shirt and blue hospital pants. Bruce was carefully taking his blood pressure. "Normal," he commented, and the soldier nodded. "We still need to get you to eat solids, though, Sergeant. Your system can't survive on an IV drip for much longer. It worked when you were in cryo, but now, you're awake."

"Plus you could stand to put on a few pounds." Natasha walked into the room. "Right, doctor?"

Bruce smiled. "Right." He looked at Barnes. "Even if we take into account you've lost muscle mass, you're about 10lbs under an optimum healthy weight." He shook his head. "HYDRA really did a number on you. Trained you to kill, but not to look after yourself."

Bucky's eyes flickered. "HYDRA?"

Natasha and Bruce stopped suddenly. Arthur walked forward. "HYDRA, Bucky. What do you remember?"

"I remember..." his voice slowed, and trailed off. "I remember the snow."

Arthur sat down so he and Barnes were on eye level. "Snow? Was it cold, cold snow?"

"I fell." His voice had adopted a soft, dreamy rhythm. "I fell into the snow. They took me to a dry place. They took care of me."

Natasha made a sound that was suspiciously like a cough. Arthur frowned at her. "Continue, Bucky. How did they take care of you?"

"They told me I was their new hope."

Arthur nodded. "Listen, Bucky," he said, gently. "Do you remember where you born?"

"No."

"Remember what you did before you fell into the snow?"

"No."

"Do you want to?"

Arthur's voice was soft, gentle. Suddenly, the other man reached forward, and grabbed his arm. "Am I your mission?" he asked urgently. Arthur shook his head. "No, Bucky. I'm your friend."

"Friend?"

"Bucky," Arthur said softly. "I'm here to help you. I'm here to help you make sense of this. Sense of all this madness." He looked at him. "Do you understand?"

No response. The eyes had gone blank, the mouth closed. The Sergeant had revealed too much.

Steve came in. "So, when are you - we going to do this?"

Arthur looked at him. "Tomorrow. I'll brief you all in the morning." Turning, not waiting for a response, he left the room.


	5. Better Left Unseen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve goes into the depths, and wishes he hadn't.

"OK, I take it we're all assembled?"

Arthur spoke with authority, his eyes scanning the room. Yes, they were all there - Sam, Natasha, Steve, Tony. Bucky was undergoing tests with Bruce. He cleared his throat, and continued. "Later today we're entering the dream state. We'll be under for about ten hours."

"Is ten hours long enough?" Natasha queried. Arthur looked at her. "Absolutely," he said, his voice calm. "Five minutes in the real world is an hour in a dream. We'll be going three layers deep, right into the heart of Barnes' subconscious."

"And these layers have a theme, right?" Tony interjected. He was leaning back on his chair, the front two legs off the floor. Arthur envied him his casualness. "Yes, they do. My architect, Ariadne, emailed me the plans last night." He pointed to the whiteboard he had in the centre of the room. "The first layer, we take him to the most recent past - SHIELD. Then, onto a mission a few years ago. And finally-"

"His capture." Steve spoke quietly, but the impact was as though he'd fired a gun. "You're actually going to take him back to that?"

"No," Arthur shook his head. "Not his capture, but that period. Help him remember the man he was."

Steve nodded. "I see." His voice faded and he looked at the floor.

Slightly irritated, Arthur continued. "You need to watch out for the projections."

"Projections?!" Natasha looked up. "What are they?"

"They're Bucky's sub conciousness, rising up to fight. They'll see us as a danger - like white blood cells trying to fight an infection. They could take on the form of someone he knows, or just random strangers." He looked at the group. "Is there anyone-"

"Pierce," Sam spoke up. "And also Brock Rumlow. They will show up, even though one's dead and the other's currently in Intensive Care."

Arthur nodded. "OK. So, the first layer - Sam. Second layer - Tony. Third layer - Steve. Natasha, I need you with me. You're my Point on this."

"So who are you?"

"I'm the extractor." Arthur rubbed his forehead. "Thanks everyone. I'll meet you here at 6pm. Please wear clothes that are comfortable - you're going to be lying in them for a while."

Everyone nodded, and began to get up. As Arthur carefully fiddled with the PASIV, Steve approached. "Got a minute?"

"Of course," Arthur said, looking up. "What can I do for you?"

"I need to know..." Steve paused. "What's inside his mind. Before tonight."

Arthur frowned. "I see. Is it...?"

"I have to know," Steve said, quietly. "I still don't think he remembers me, and..." his voice trailed off. "Would you take me into his subconcious?"

Arthur looked at him. "How about ten minutes?" He asked, quietly. "That would give us a couple of hours."

He picked up the PASIV, and began to walk towards the med facility. Bruce was just leaving. "Hey," he greeted, pleasantly. "He's asleep. Managed to run for 20 minutes this morning on a treadmill. His muscle mass is improving."

Steve raised his eyebrows. "Really That's good!"

"It is!" Bruce said, enthusiastically. "Are you two...?"

"Yes." Arthur nodded. "But only for ten minutes."

"All right." Bruce looked concerned, but then acceptance moved across his face. "But if he shows any sign of distress, I will wake you up."

"Got it," Arthur replied. He and Steve moved inside, Arthur carefully unwinding the IVs. As he pushed one into Bucky's arm, the former Soldier murmured in his sleep.

"Not uncommon," Steve commented. He took another lead, and attached it to his arm. Arthur followed. As the two men settled into chairs by the bed, Arthur nodded. "Let's go."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Arthur blinked, and shivered.

He was standing with his feet in snow. Crisp, white, soft snow, that was still falling from the sky. He turned. Steve was next to him, both of them in heavy, belted overcoats.

"Any idea where we are?" Arthur asked. The other man nodded. "Yes. The train."

"What?"

"HYDRA - the Nazis - they attacked us. We were on a train, Bucky fell into a ravine.I assumed he was dead." Steve's lips were trembling. "Let's keep walking."

Arthur nodded. "Shall we follow the blood?"

"Blood?" Steve paled. "I-"

Arthur gestured. A trail of blood was shown clearly along the snow. Both men began to hurry after it. Suddenly, Steve stopped. "I don't know if I can do this."

"You have to." Arthur looked at him. "To find out what happened."

Swallowing, Steve continued. After a few short minutes, they arrived at a large stone door. Arthur looked at him. "Well?"

Steve gave it a push, and it began to rise. As they walked in, Arthur heard a scream. Steve grabbed his arm. "What was-"

"Let's keep it walking." The Point Man was determined not to let Steve fail. After another few steps, they came to a room. Open, bright lights, they could see right in. Suddenly, both men heard a European accent, almost purring in triumph.

"Sergeant Barnes, the procedure has already started!"

Arthur's attention swung towards a surgical table. Despite the obscuring of the view by masked and gowned doctors, Arthur knew who was on the slab. His heart began to pound.

Arthur swallowed. Steve looked as if he were about to collapse. "Arthur- I can't watch this. Please, wake me up!"

"Steve-"

"Please! Wake me up! Wake me up!"

Suddenly, one of the other doctors turned towards them, walking straight towards them, brandishing a scalpel. As it came near to Steve, Arthur shuddered, moving forward, then his eyes jerked open.

Blinking, he found himself staring into the face of Tony Stark. "I-"

"Rogers was in distress," Tony said, commenting on Steve, who was ashen faced, and also awake. "But Metal Man here seems to be fast asleep still."

Arthur turned his head. Bucky was indeed sunk deep in sleep, not even stirring.

"What did you see?" Tony asked, gently.

"The procedure," Steve said, his voice shaking. "They - he-"

"Steve," Arthur said, "it was a dream."

"No it wasn't," Steve said, fiercely. "It was real."

"Sure you want to go in?" Arthur asked.

Steve nodded. "Definitely."

Arthur looked at him. "Fine. See you at 6." Disconnecting the IV, he got up and walked out.


	6. Entering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Driving into danger

Arthur stretched out on his bed - Tony had insisted on him staying at Stark Tower for the duration of his visit - and breathed. He was trying to relax for a few hours, before embarking upon the extraction.

"Or is it an inception?" he mused, rolling his dice in his hand. He had mentioned that everyone needed a totem, to ensure they weren't in someone else's dream. It had resulted in a conversation between him and Romanoff that had alerted him to potential difficulties. As he was heading back to his room, he had been waylaid by the redhead.

"Hey Arthur. You mentioned totems?"

"I did," the Point Man replied, his hand clutching the PASIV case. "You got one?"

She produced a bullet. "Like this?"

"Yes," he replied, trying to ignore her slightly flirtatious, if sardonic manner. "Soviet slug?"

"Yes." She nodded.

"Did you and Barnes ever know each other?" Arthur's voice was blunt, and she reddened. "No."

"Really?" Arthur looked at her. "He seems to have worked for the Russians - you were a member of the KGB, right?"

She blushed. "Who told you that?"

Arthur shrugged. "Your files." He looked at her. "I have to check the background of everyone I work with. Part of the territory." He swallowed. "Did you ever work with Barnes? Professionally?"

Natasha shook her head. "No. He shot me once, to kill somebody else." She smiled. "Right through my bikini line."

"Ouch," Arthur responded. "But you-"

"I was a kid when I joined the KGB," she retorted. "He was a ghost story."

"Now he's real," Arthur said. "But I need to know. I need to know that nothing is going to come out of your memory that could damage the extraction."

She shook her head. "We'll be fine," she assured him. "See you later."

A knock on the door disturbed his reverie. He got up. "Yes?" he called out. The door opened, and Steve looked in. "Mind if I come in?"

"No, do." Arthur rubbed his forehead. He noticed the blonde was carrying two cups of coffee. "Thank you."

"Figured you could use a pick me up." Steve placed one in Arthur's hand, then sat down opposite. "This evening-" He paused. "I do wonder how he - we - are going to cope."

"We will." Arthur nodded. "Just watch out for the projections." He looked at the clock. "Got an hour."

Steve seemed to be at a loss of anything else to say. He got up. "OK. See you later."

Frowning, Arthur watched as he left. Getting up, he decided to take a shower.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"OK Bucky, this is going to be ok."

Arthur pulled out the PASIV IV, and turned to Barnes. He was sitting impassively, as impassively as he had the first time they'd met. Arthur plugged the lead into his arm. "Sleep tight."

As the others pulled out their leads, and began making themselves comfortable on the loungers that had been arranged, Arthur it his lip. He was taking an inexperienced team into the mind of an ex-Soviet Assassin. He was beginning to regret having agreed to this. But the he turned his head.

Steve was talking to Bucky, softly. As he put his hand on his shoulder, Arthur realised why he was agreeing to this. "Steve!" He called, quietly. "Its time."

Steve walked over to the PASIV, and pulled out his lead. As he attached it, and laid down, he closed his eyes. Arthur looked round at them all. "Sweet dreams."

He hit the button.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

He blinked. He was sitting in a board room, one that was expensively - if sparsely- furnished. Getting up, he noticed that the others were also beginning to awake. He looked down at himself - he was dressed in a business suit, the other men in black fatigues. Natasha was in a black bodysuit, adjusting her front zip.

Arthur nodded as they all began to get up. He gestured for them to be silent as they did so. Outside, through the glass panels, they saw figures moving. "Where are we?" he heard Tony mutter.

"Triskelion," Steve told him. "SHIELD's headquarters."

Arthur frowned. They were in danger of alerting the projections to their presence in Barnes' subconscious. He looked ahead. One wall was composed of glass panels, albeit the outside view obscured by wooden slatted blinds.

"Bucky!" Steve whispered, and moved forward. Arthur put out his hand. "Wait. He's going to be with the projections. Just watch."

Arthur cautiously opened the door. As he had thought, he saw Bucky's retreating back, heading down the hallway. His hands, Arthur noticed by his stance, appeared to be cuffed in front of him. He was surrounded by HYDRA goons, all of whom were carrying guns. As they walked into an elevator, Arthur gestured.

"Come on!"

They followed him, Natasha walking next to him, and the three other men behind. As the elevator doors slid shut, Arthur began to run. "Hey!"

One of the goons slammed his fist into the door, and it pulled shut. Arthur nodded. "Stairway. Now!"

As they hurried, Sam spoke. "What are we-?"

"Follow me," Arthur ordered, tersely. He knew exactly what they needed, and when they got to the bottom, he pushed open the security double doors, and hurried. In front of them was a gleaming black maxi van, pulling away from the curb. "OK, we follow it."

Turning, he walked straight to another, and opened the driver's door. "Sam. You're driving. Steve - you and I are in the front."

As they began to move, Arthur hunched forward, reaching for the gun in his side holster. He brought it out, and clicked it into position. "Keep it steady."

"Not going to do anything-" Sam broke off. "Oh, God."

The back doors of the Hydra van had burst open. Bucky, dressed in full combat gear, complete with his metal arm exposed, was standing on the back. In his hand was a gun, and he was aiming it straight at the windshield.

Arthur blinked, then felt Steve pulling him down. The bullet hit the windscreen, cracking it. Sam swerved, almost taking them off the road. To Arthur's shock, Barnes had jumped out of the back of the van, and was moving towards them.

Arthur didn't have a choice. Leaning out of the window, pushing past Steve, he fired.

Suddenly, he noticed Bucky stop, blinking. He'd hit him, his thigh suddenly running with blood. The van screeched to a halt, two of the projections jumping out and pulling him into the back, slamming the doors.

"Go!" Arthur roared, leaning out, keeping his gun trained on them. As the van peeled off, he watched.

"What, did you-" Steve looked shocked.

"No," Arthur said, shaking his head. "I aimed for his leg." He swallowed. "Sorry about that."

Steve shrugged. "'s'ok. Just keep following."

"Sam," Arthur instructed, turning to the driver. "this is your dream. Keep an eye out for projections on the highway." He swallowed. "We can do this."


	7. Following

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going for a ride proves to be tricky.

"OK, on your left," Arthur instructed. He was holding a rifle, scoping the truck. "Let's see if we can get any closer."

Sam was gripping the wheel. "Excuse me," he instructed to Natasha, who was already half out the window, allowing the airman to drive. Carefully, he began to push the van and move it forward.

Arthur looked at Natasha. "Ready?"

"You bet."

The Russian-born assassin was holding pistols in both hands, and was half out of the window. Carefully, gracefully, she swung lower out the window, and fired a couple of shots. Arthur sucked his breath in. They had just missed the tires. Sam swerved, to give them a better chance. Arthur fired again from his side, and to his delight, hit one of the tires.

"OK," Natasha commented, nodding. "I think we-"

Suddenly, a shot was fired, cracking the side window. Sam swerved, and Arthur blinked. Two motorcyclists, both clad in black, were heading towards them. "Projections!" The Point Man shouted. "Romanov! On your left!"

She was almost out of the car and onto one of the cyclists before he had spoken. Using her leg, she aimed a kick straight at the helmet of one of the bikers. He swerved, skittered, and crashed. She nodded. "Done!"

"Excellent," Arthur said, keeping his eyes on the road. "Ready to ram?"

Sam grinned. "Oh yes!"

"Do it!"

Sam accelerated, completely ignoring the other motorcyclists flanking them. A quick shot from Arthur saw them off, and the van surged forward. Sam was a steady, confident driver, completely unhampered by the other projections on the road. Natasha was already on the hood of the car.

"She's not?" Arthur muttered, incredulously.

"Oh, I think she is!"

Poised like a cat, Romanov waited until the van was in touching distance of the HYDRA carrier. She was ready to leap.

Suddenly, Barnes re-appeared. His face a murderous mask, he was holding a gun - and aiming it her head. Arthur blinked. "No!" he shouted, and taking aim, shot again at the Winter Soldier.

The bullet pinged off the metal arm, startling the other man. The facial expression changed, and a look of shock began to take over. Arthur noticed that a bandage had been hastily applied to the leg he'd wounded. Suddenly, a slim, dark haired man grabbed the Soldier and pulled him inside. The doors of the van banged shut.

"Romanov!" Arthur barked. "Get in here!"

With a surprising meekness, she did so, crawling back in through the window. "What happened?" she asked. If she was shaken, Arthur noticed, she concealed it.

"The projections have Barnes, and they're going to conceal him." Arthur was keeping his eyes on the road. "All we can do is follow them and see what happens. My guess is that they'll turn off and try and shake us...or..."

"Or what?" Natasha asked.

"Just let us follow us."

Suddenly, there was a bang on the metal partition behind the driver. Arthur slid it back. "Steve?"

"What's going on?" Rogers demanded.

"We're following them," Sam shouted. "Got them in our sights."

"You and Stark hold on," Arthur called. "We need you guys in one piece."

Sam continued to drive, twisting and turning. As the van turned off, and they followed, Arthur swallowed. He was now convinced that the projections of Bucky's sub consciousness were drawing them into a trap, but he knew they had to keep following. As the HYDRA van continued to twist and turn into side streets, he realised that it was slowing. Sam looked at Arthur, and began to draw up behind, quietly.

The back doors flew open of the HYDRA van, and two men pulled out Barnes. He wasn't struggling - he was remarkably passive. They marched him in, through the heavy doors of a somewhat unremarkable building.

Arthur, Sam and Natasha watched. "Glad Steve's not seeing this," Sam muttered. Arthur held a warning finger to his lips. "Let's wait."

After ten minutes had passed, Arthur decided they had to go in. "We need to get Bucky, connect him to us, and then we can go into the next level - Tony's." He banged on the back wall. "Hey, guys! We're up!"

Within seconds, Tony and Steve were on the pavement, waiting. Arthur, Natasha, and Sam joined them.

"Let's go," Arthur whispered.

Quickly, the five of them walked straight into the building. A security guard looked up. Arthur didn't hesitate. Pulling out a silenced gun, he shot him in the chest. Steve and Tony looked at him, astonished.

"Projection," Arthur said, swallowing. "Be on your guard. Let's split up. Natasha, you're with me. Steve, Tony, Sam-"

"No," Steve interrupted. "I'm with you two." Before anyone else could comment or protest, he had joined them.

"OK," Arthur said, quietly. "We find Barnes. We take him with us. That's the plan."

Tony and Sam immediately began to head off down one corridor that was to the side of the hallway. The other three watched them go. Arthur holstered his gun. "Follow me."

As they walked, they heard voices. Steve blinked. "From...over there."

Arthur nodded. "OK."

As they walked, they realised the building was eerily silent. Suddenly, they heard another voice.

"You useless, stupid-!"

Arthur heard a man's voice, raised in anger. He noticed Steve was stiffening. "That's Alexander Pierce."

Before Arthur or Natasha could stop him, he was heading to the direction of the voice.


	8. Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Horror is waiting.

"Stay calm," Arthur muttered as they headed towards the voice. "Stay low."

They approached a room. The wall was half glass, enabling them to see in - and those inside to look out. The three crouched, listening intently. "Remember, Arthur whispered. "They're projections."

"I can't believe you let this happen!" Alexander Pierce was shouting, his tone of voice threatening. "You do realise how valuable he is, don't you, Rumlow? That for 70 years his work has been a gift to mankind!"

"Sir, I'm sorry, I-"

"You can save the apologies." Pierce's brow was furrowed - the projection, Arthur noted, must be a reflection of Barnes' darkest, most unpleasant memories. "If he's injured, I'll-" he paused. "Let me talk to him."

Arthur heard footsteps. Frowning, he kept low, trying to listen. But Steve was twitching impatiently, and Arthur knew he was dying to go in.

"Winter. Can you hear me? Nod." Pause. "Good, you still have cognitive function. Now, what happened to your leg?"

Pause.

"Winter. Do not make me lose my patience. What happened to your leg?"

Arthur, consumed by curiosity, could not wait. Making sure his gun was carefully concealed, he clutched the case and walked into the room. "Mr Pierce?"

Pierce looked up. The projection, Arthur noted, had an air of arrogance. "Yes? Who are you?"

"Dr. Charles," Arthur said, adopting a similarly arrogant stance. "I'm here to help test the asset's mental stability for another mission."

"The mental stability?" Pierce raised an eyebrow. "There's nothing wrong with it's mental stability."

It. Arthur felt stung. The dehumanisation of Barnes from a living person to a murderous puppet was buried deep inside the man's psyche. He smiled and turned. "Well, let's see." He looked at Barnes. "Can you hear me?"

The other man's face was clouded in a fog of pain and confusion. He looked at Arthur. "The woman in the car..." he said, slowly. "Who is she?"

Arthur swallowed. On no account must he antagonise the projections. "Was she someone she knew?" he asked, carefully.

"I don't-"

"You don't know anyone," Pierce interrupted. "You don't." He looked at Arthur. "He's our asset, Dr Charles. He doesn't really socialise."

"I see." Arthur looked at the leg. "Are you going to treat this?"

"Of course," Pierce retorted haughtily. He clicked his fingers, and two male nurses ran over. "Check the pulse, and glucose levels. I suspect its feeding time."

"Little dehumanising," Arthur muttered. He looked into Barnes' eyes. "So," he said, in a friendly manner. What makes you think you knew her?"

"I-"

One of the nurses spoke. "Open your mouth."

Barnes looked at him. Submissively, without questioning, he opened his mouth. Arthur blinked as a tube was placed inside his mouth, pushing it down his throat. "Lie back," the nurse instructed.

"Tube feeding?" Arthur asked, slightly incredulous.

"Keeps him controlled," Pierce said, dismissively. "Now-"

Suddenly, Pierce sank to his knees.

Arthur looked up. Steve was standing behind the fallen man.

"What have you done?!"

Arthur looked at Steve, his words charged with shock. Steve looked at him, calmly.

"Old move", he said, raising his thumbs. "Pressure points in the neck. He's passed out." He looked at Bucky, still strapped into the chair, and with the feeding tube down his throat. Two male nurses were standing to the side, looking shaken. Steve looked at them. "Remove it."

"But-" the two men looked at each other. "You don't understand. His calorific intake needs to be kept up. If it falls too low-"

"Now!" he barked. Hastily, one hurried to Bucky's side, taking care when pulling out the long, plastic tube. The Winter Soldier coughed, his mouth and chin flecked with spittle. The other nurse quickly wiped it, turning to leave.

"Try and stay calm," Steve advised, taking another step towards Bucky. "We're going to help you-"

"Steve!" Natasha called, clearly agitated. "Don't, he might-"

Steve and Romanov's words were cut short as the metal arm extending, the fingers unfurling like claws. In a split second, the fingers were fastened around Steve's neck, squeezing, painfully choking the breath out of his chest. Arthur stepped forward, pulling out a gun, and pointed it directly at Barnes' forehead. "Hey!"

Barnes blinked, his steel blue eyes suddenly focusing on Arthur. Who didn't blink at the cold emptiness of them. He merely kept the gun focused, not dropping eye contact.

"If you do not release him," he intoned, slowly, "I will shoot you."

Steve, whose face was turning progressively redder, was clutching at the metal wrist. Arthur merely kept his eyes trained on him. "You don't believe me? I shot you from a moving van. What do you think I could do with you just sitting in front of me?"

Barnes blinked, clearly beginning to realise that Arthur was serious. His fingers began to unfurl, releasing the pressure on Steve's throat. After what seemed an agonisingly long moment, the metal fingers discarded his neck. Steve clutched at it, choking. As he began to sink to his knees, Natasha walked to him, helping to pull him back up.

Arthur still hadn't moved. "I don't want to hurt you."

Barnes blinked. His expression was inscrutable.

"I don't know what they've done to you," Arthur said, his tone gentle, "but we're here to help get you out. I need you to listen and follow-"

"Drop it."

Arthur turned. A dark haired man with a swarthy complexion was standing behind him. Arthur recognised him as the same man who had pulled Barnes inside when he'd shot him. He was holding an AK-47 sniper rifle, the barrel pointed directly at his face.

"You want me to?" Arthur responded.

"Yes," the man said, his tone hard. "Because otherwise, that pretty face of yours is going to be such a mess not even surgery will help." He looked at Barnes. "What did you do?"

"What have you done to him?"

"Him? Its not a him." The man was still holding the gun, but Arthur could see the agitation was mounting. "Its an Asset. Simple as that. Now, drop the gun, and step away, or I'll-"

Arthur made to lower the gun, and fired, hitting the man in the thigh. Screaming with pain, he collapsed. Arthur walked over, grabbing him by the collar. Natasha followed, helpfully relieving him of the rifle.

"Listen to me," Arthur said, harshly. "You recognise me. You recognise us. You know we were following you, you know that we will kill him, we will kill Pierce, and we will kill you. I shot your asset in the thigh while you were moving. What do you think I could do if we're all stationary?"

"Please, my leg-"

"Answer my questions," Arthur said, coldly. "First - what do you people do to Barnes? What do you do to reduce him to this?"

The man swallowed. "Look, man, I don't know anything technical. All I know is that he gets wiped after every mission."

"Wiped?" Steve looked at the man in horror. "What do you mean, wiped?"

"They- they-" the man was shaking. "They give him some sort of electro shock therapy. Wipe his memories, remove his knowledge of what he's done. He can't have emotions, or thoughts about what he does. He's a weapon."

"A weapon," Steve said, his face ashen. "He's a human being."

"No!" the man practically shouted. "You - don't understand - he's a machine. He was created just to kill-"

"Kill for who?" Arthur demanded. He flicked the catch switch back to prove how serious he was. "Kill anyone that Pierce wanted?"

"Kill anyone that HYDRA wanted," the man said. He was almost in tears from pain and shock. "Please. Let me - get me some help for my leg."

Arthur swallowed. "Let us take him."

"Take-" the man's eyes widened. "No, I can't let you. You do that, Alexander Pierce will kill me, you understand?"

Arthur shook his head. "If I kill you, you will let us. You can deal with Pierce. Barnes comes with us."

"I-"

Arthur put the gun to the man's forehead. "If you persist in arguing with me, I will shoot you." He looked at Steve. "Reckon you can get him out of there?"

"On it." Steve and Natasha were already unlocking the straps that were keeping Barnes pinned to the seat. He made no sound of protest as they released him. Carefully, Steve put his hand on Bucky's flesh arm. "Come on."

Bucky allowed himself to be pulled up. Suddenly, he swung his leg round in a roundhouse kick, sending Natasha spinning back across the room. Horrified, Steve looked at him, only to receive a punch to the jaw that caught him off balance. Turning, Barnes began to run, limping visibly.

"You gonna go get him?" the man on the floor taunted.

Arthur looked at him. "Your name?"

"Brock Rumlow."

Arthur nodded. "Thanks for your help." Without pausing, he shot the projection in the forehead. He turned to look at Steve and Natasha. "We need to catch him."

"He's wounded-" Natasha began, who was now on her feet from where she landed.

"Remember, this is a dream, and we're in his subconscious." Arthur bit his lip. "Anything could happen. Come on!"


End file.
